


Before Your Eyes

by bestkeptsecret



Category: Glee
Genre: Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, Hypnotism, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Control, Pre-Slash, Sleepwalking, Somnophilia, Tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestkeptsecret/pseuds/bestkeptsecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after 4x12 "Naked." Seeing that Sam is still stressed about his body and grades, Blaine suggests hypnosis. Sam proves to be a very...cooperative subject, so Blaine decides to indulge a few of his own kinks, with surprising results. [GKM Fill]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Glee Kink Meme Fill. Original prompt can be found here: http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/43590.html?thread=59144006#t59144006
> 
> Title comes from "Hypnotize" by The White Stripes.

Blaine would be lying if he said this wasn’t the most terrifying thing he had ever considered doing. Mostly because there were many, _many_ ways it could go wrong, and every one of the consequences were horrifying enough to make his stomach drop straight out of his ass. The idea of _hypnotizing_ someone to make them feel a certain way and do certain things not only seemed ludicrous, but incredibly risky; however, Blaine couldn’t really see any other option at this point, because if anything his relationship with Sam was just as ludicrous.

After putting together the video for him during their calendar photoshoot, Blaine had been feeling particularly despondent regarding the possibility of Sam ever falling for him. Blaine had never been good at being particularly upfront with his feelings, so that video had sort of been his way of expressing how amazing of a person he thought Sam was—and not just in a platonic way.

But Sam seemed ever-oblivious to that fact, even though their bromance had gotten even closer since the shoot: apparently working out in the gym together and doing the Men of McKinley calendar made Sam feel excessively comfortable around Blaine, to the point that he would have no qualms about removing his shirt when they hung out; in fact, more than once they’d been playing video games while Sam was in nothing more in his underwear, which often made Blaine feel awkward for more than one reason (the least of which being he was often still in his done-up, multilayered outfits).

Sam’s comfort about his body had increased exponentially since the calendar, but there were still occasional comments lamenting his lack of drive to go to the gym. Blaine had finally decided to seize upon these, a few weeks after the shoot, when they were watching one of the X-Men films on a Friday night and Sam talked about how much he wished he was as ripped as Hugh Jackman.

“Trust me, Sam,” Blaine said with a friendly roll of his eyes, scooping out a handful of popcorn. “You’re in just as good shape—if not better.”

Sam just huffed out a sigh, shaking a loose strand of dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. Blaine swallowed. If there was any time to go for it, it was now.

“But you know,” he continued after a minute, fighting valiantly to keep his tone even and casual, “I know something that can help with your motivation if you’re really that worried about it.”

That got Sam’s attention. “Really?” he asked, his natural curiosity already getting the better of him. “Is it steroids?” His voice had taken on that tone of naïve suspicion he often had, and Blaine fought the urge to pat him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Cause I’m not that interested in those: I spend too much time shaving my balls to have them shrivel up and disappear like dead stars.”

“…Interesting metaphor,” Blaine replied with a laugh, “but no, actually.” He paused again, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the electric sensation of Sam’s prying eyes. “Have you heard of hypnosis?”

Sam’s brow furrowed ever-so-slightly, but his quick nod gave Blaine some hope. “Yeah, duh, it’s in literally every Marvel and DC comic series ever, Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Zoolander— _WHAT IS THIS, A CENTER FOR ANTS?!_ ” The sudden shift into a (pretty spot on) Ben Stiller impression caught Blaine off-guard, and his own eyes widened as Sam continued. “Why?”

“Well,” Blaine explained, feeling more comfortable with the fact that Sam didn’t seem fully off-put by the idea, “a lot of athletes use it to help with focus in the gym, a-and students can use it to help retain information for classes and stuff. So it could help you with your grades too. And Cooper says that a lot of actors in Hollywood use it to kick bad habits, like doing coke and giving Mel Gibson more movie deals.”

“Huh,” was all Sam said. The movie continued to play in the background, and his gaze seemed to look somewhere past Blaine as he thought it over. “You’re saying you know how to do that? Like, hypnotize people?”

“Totally,” Blaine said, the eagerness creeping into his voice. “At Dalton I took a psych course where we spent a month studying alternative therapy techniques. Everyone who went under said it felt incredible. 

“Cool!” Sam said with a grin. “I’m down. Let’s do it now!” He bounced up off his seat on the couch and flopped back into the armrest unceremoniously, letting his arms splay out onto either side of him as he looked down the couch at Blaine expectantly.

“Wait, seriously?” Blaine said, palms already starting to sweat.

“Dude, I have a European history exam on Tuesday and I don’t know anything. I need all the help I can get. Plus all that stuff sounds like fun. Make me into your slaaaaave, maaaaster,” he droned jokingly, holding his arms out in front of him as if he were a zombie. “Make me daaaaance like a chicken in Mrs. Carson’s class so I don’t have to take her teeeeeeest.”

It was all an act, sure, but the sight of it made Blaine’s cock twitch in his pants. Maybe he would have to make Sam into one of those B-movie hypnotic subjects just for a little bit to indulge his own fancies. “I’m, uh, not sure that’s how it works, Sam,” Blaine pointed out gently, already switching off the giant TV in his playroom.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sam replied. “Actually, I was gonna say you might not even be able to hypnotize me,” he announced, a note of pride creeping into his voice. “I mean, I’ve seen all those movies and stuff, so I know when it’s all coming and how it works. I’ve sorta gotten desensitized to it, y’know?”

“Well, according to my class,” Blaine explained, picking the bowl of popcorn off the couch and moving it over to the minibar in the corner of the room, “anyone can be hypnotized; it’s all a matter of trust between hypnotist and subject.” He glanced over his shoulder, locking eyes with Sam, who’d crossed his arms behind his head and was jiggling one foot across his knee expectantly. “You trust me, right?”

Sam grinned. “Totally.”

Just the sheer honesty of that answer was enough to fill Blaine’s heart with butterflies, but he did his best to return a muted smile in response. “So, how do you want to be put under, then?”

“Oh, there’s different ways?” Sam asked, sitting up in interest. “Uh...can you actually hypnotize someone with a watch?”

“You could probably hypnotize somebody with anything, honestly.”

“Then use that!” Sam requested, nodding slowly, his grin cocking to one side. “That seems like it’d be fun.        

Blaine’s smile grew bigger; he’d developed a sort of fondness for putting people under that way, and had already procured one from his dad’s room in anticipation. “A traditionalist, I see,” he said playfully, his eyebrows perking. “I think my dad actually has one (“Not surprised,” Sam interjected), so lemme grab it and we can start. So just make yourself comfortable,” he said, and in a flash he ran across the house to his room and back into the playroom, a gold pocket watch clutched tightly in his fist.

“Can you speak in a German accent, too?” Sam asked jokingly, putting on his own terribly overdone attempt.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face—I’m terrible at accents,” Blaine admitted, rolling his eyes. “We all don’t share your talent with impressions.” He pulled an ottoman from nearby armchair over to the sofa, where Sam was waiting expectantly, hands fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. “You comfortable?”

“I lived in a motel for six months, dude,” Sam deadpanned. “Your leather couch is pretty much heaven.”

“Okay, well, in that case, just put your feet on the floor, your hands at the side, and watch this.” Lifting the watch up by its chain so that it was just slightly above Sam’s eye level, Blaine flicked his wrist and let the golden timepiece swing from side to side. Sam’s eyes began tracking it immediately; maybe those cheesy movies had actually helped make him a better subject, contrary to what he thought. 

“So all you need to do is just watch this, and breathe deeply, listening to the sound of my voice."

Sam nodded, letting out a heavy breath and rolling his neck to adjust his shoulders against the cushions of the couch. “’Kay.” His eyes didn’t leave the watch, however. “Just like in the movies,” he said, his lips pursing excitedly.

“Don’t talk, Sam,” Blaine reminded him gently. “Just let me do the talking. Just let me do the talking and help you relax, help you feel good. Okay?” 

Sam nodded; this time when he breathed out, his shoulders slumped down a little further. “So just keep taking deep breaths, and as you do let all the tension and stress melt out of your body. You’re always so stressed about school and working out—you deserve to let that go.” Another nod. “So do that. Breathe in, and breathe out, and picture every atom in your body squeezing out all its stress and worry. Just let your eyes follow the watch, comfortably swinging back and forth, as your body lets go of all its tension.” 

Sam’s blue eyes were flicking back and forth in a manner that seemed almost automatic, but there was still a hint of a smile on his face that told Blaine he was dangerously close to bursting out into laughter. So Blaine figured he had to help him relax further.

“What I want you to do as you follow the watch,” Blaine said, “is to flex every muscle in your body. Make your entire body as stiff and rigid and flexed as you can, like a statue, and hold it that way until I tell you to let it go.” 

Sam complied, and Blaine watched with wonder as his arms and shoulders seemed to double in size as he squeezed the fibers to their maximum size. The veins in his forearms grew more noticeable and Blaine licked his lips, letting Sam sit there for several seconds, practically vibrating where he sat as he tried to keep his entire body flexed. He was starting to flush noticeably when Blaine said, “And let it go,” and Sam seemed to melt completely outward, letting out a deep sigh of relief. 

“Perfect,” Blaine told him languidly. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

Sam nodded, his eyes still moving left to right. “Yeah,” he said, the words exiting on a cleansing breath. “It does.” He was still smiling, but it was smaller, lazier, stemming from the sensation of release instead of the discomfort that came from having your best friend swing a watch in front of your face. 

“Then just let that feeling of release continue, all throughout your body; your muscles are so tired—you know how tired they are from all the time you spend at the gym, so just let them go. Picture them unraveling, melting down into that comfortable couch as you breathe in and out…in and out.” 

Sam shifted slightly, his chest moving regularly and slowly. Blaine could see that with Sam slouching more and more into the cushions, his t-shirt was starting to ride up the slightest amount. It wasn’t enough to show any skin (not that Blaine hadn’t already seen _plenty_ of Sam’s body), but the very top of his boxer waistband was visible and Blaine quickly averted his gaze for the sake of decorum. Upon looking back at Sam’s face, however, Blaine could tell that Sam hadn’t seen: his eyes were still following the watch, his gaze already becoming more abstracted and faraway. 

“Feel that relaxation increase with every deep, easy breath you take, Sam…almost as if you’re filling up with a warm, comfortable wave of light that slowly moves up your body every time you exhale. Picture that light now, starting down in the soles of your feet as you breathe in, and then moving up into your ankles as you exhale.”

He watched intently as Sam breathed in and out a few times, testing the waters, and after a few seconds his eyebrows flicked upward as if in surprise. “Did you feel it?” Blaine asked quietly, chuckling in response to Sam’s surprise. Glancing down, he saw Sam shift his feet softly back and forth once, the stimulus taking effect far more quickly than Blaine would have thought.

“…Yeah,” the blonde breathed, eyes squinting slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe it as they moved back and forth. “’s nuts.” 

“But it felt nice, right?” Blaine asked, knowing Sam would agree, and of course he nodded. “Good. So just keep breathing and following the watch, letting that warm wave of relaxation move through you, all the way up until it’s filled up to the top of your head.”

Sam’s smile started to fade as Blaine continued occasional words of encouragement, relishing the way he could see Sam’s body fall further back into his couch as he relaxed further. His lips had parted slightly, and his eyes were still moving, blinking more often than they had been previously. Blaine’s arm was starting to get tired, so he switched which one was holding the chain—if Sam noticed, he made no indication of it.

“You’re feeling _so_ relaxed now, aren’t you, Sam?” 

“Yeah,” was the response, taking a few moments as though speaking through a fog. 

“And in fact, you’re going to notice that the longer you stare at this watch, the more that relaxation will start to become an overpowering feeling of sleepiness. It’s like that warm, drowsy feeling you get right before you fall asleep at night—and it feels wonderful. So just breathe and listen to me as I help to guide you down into that incredible feeling of sleepiness.”

The effect was immediate. Sam’s eyelids began to drop, and after a few seconds he even started yawning. “…Kay,” he murmured, his head completely back against the cushions as his eyes slavishly tracked the watch back and forth. 

“Just let your eyes follow the watch, growing heavier and heavier as you get sleepier and sleepier.”

Sam already looked half-asleep by the looks of it: his eyelids were fluttering downward every few seconds, and whenever they reopened they did so just a little bit less. He yawned a little bit, his mouth remaining open as he finished. His cheeks were flushed a bit, and in the lights of his playroom Blaine could see that his lips were dry. He smacked them once lazily, and Blaine exhaled heavily, trying to ignore how much the sight of Sam slowly falling asleep was turning him on. He’d have plenty of time once he got the induction done perfectly. 

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from having a little fun.

“Sam,” he said softly, and he actually got a response, a quiet “Hm?” from the blonde boy, his eyebrows shooting up as he attempted to open his eyes a bit more, as if that would delay the inevitability of him falling asleep. “You know that the wonderful feelings you’re feeling are all because of you following this watch back and forth…back and forth…back and forth. But you’re so sleepy, aren’t?”

“Mmm, yeah...” Sam sighed, his words slurred and low in his register. “Sleepy...”

“But I want you to try to stay awake as long as you can, okay?” Blaine asked, sounding as encouraging as possible.

“B-b-buh…I’m tiiiired,” Sam responded after a few seconds, yawning out the words pitifully as his eyes drooped further. His eyelids were fluttering wildly, his head starting to fall slightly to one shoulder. He jerked back up gently as it fell.

“I know—you’re going to fall asleep eventually,” Blaine assured him, “but when you do it’ll feel a hundred times better than you could ever imagine, okay? Just do it for me.”

Sam’s lips pulled slowly across his face in a dopey grin, and to Blaine’s surprise, he actually lifted himself up off the couch slightly, pulling his gaze further toward the watch. “Kay, Blaine...”

Blaine’s heart could have melted right then and there. But he was a little preoccupied by how hot this whole picture was: Sam was holding himself up by what looked like sheer muscle force, his abs probably engaged fully as he wasn’t using his arms. His back was slouched and he started owlishly at the glittering watch, doing his best to try and force his eyes from closing. And in a shocking display of willpower, they actually managed to bulge wide open once or twice, only to sink back down moments later. Sam’s mouth had fallen open completely, and his head had started to sway gently back and forth with the arch of the watch, his gaze losing focus on the timepiece more and more often.

Licking his lips intently, Blaine opted for a different strategy, loving the feeling of playing with Sam’s willpower like this. It was turning him on _so_ much just to see Sam trying so hard to accomplish this task for him; he stopped swinging the watch and instead held it in front of Sam’s eyes, twirling it back and forth on its chain so that it spun around and around, reflecting little flashes of light into Sam’s eyes.

This seemed to have a powerful effect on the blonde. Sam blinked powerfully and Blaine moved the watch a little closer and higher in Sam’s vision; it was the sweet spot he’d learned about in class, the eye position that was supposedly what the brain defined as its ‘sleeping’ mode. 

And it turn, out he couldn't have been more correct. Sam looked as if he’d be hit by a horse tranquilizer: he’d attempted to follow the watch fully, but his head was too heavy to lift as it sank further down thanks to his own fatigue. His eyes, however, were still glued to the watch, and Blaine practically came right there when Sam’s eyes started to cross from lack of focus, rolling up into the back of his head and showing their whites. “That’s it, Sam,” Blaine urged, licking his lips and noticing how ragged his own voice sounded; he felt a wet spot growing in his jeans and it was taking every ounce of self control he had to not jump the half-sleeping boy in front of him. “Try and keep your eyes open, try to stay awake, but your eyes are just getting heavier and heavier...” 

“Tryn’a…‘wake…” Sam mumbled, his head lolling uselessly as his eyes did what they could to try and focus on the spinning watch. Blaine lowered it slightly to make it easier on him, allowing Sam to raise his eyelids futilely for a few seconds before they dropped back down, slitted open while his mouth was gaping wide. His breathing was heavy, and his body seemed so malleable that even his inhales and exhales were enough to sway his entire frame from side to side. 

“Just shut your eyes, Sam,” Blaine finally said after a few more moments, when Sam’s eyes were practically closed already, “Go to sleep.” The blonde collapsed half to the side, crumpled over on the couch, his head tucked down against his chest. His shirt had ridden up more in the awkward position his body was situated, and Blaine took in the gorgeous V of Sam’s right hip before scooting forward to help lift Sam so that he was sitting up—or rather, leaning against the back of the couch instead of contorted in his awkward position.

“Sam,” Blaine said quietly, leaning forward on the ottoman, “can you hear me?”

A long pause, then finally: a jerk of the head. His blonde bangs flicked down messily, partially obscuring one eye.

“Sam, whenever you’re in this state I want you to answer me out loud as best you can. Do you understand?”

Blaine could practically see the effort Sam took to gather up his energy enough to move his mouth and say his next words. “Yes, Blaine.”

It was mumbled, unclear, and very quiet, but it was there.

Blaine’s own llips curved into a smile, letting his eyes trail up the curve of Sam’s neck, the jut of his Adam’s apple, up and around his jaw and cheeks. He took in the delicate closure of his eyelids—looking closely, he could see his eyes flickering around beneath the lids. His lips were flushed and wet and his breathing came deeply, easily. He looked more peaceful than Blaine had ever seen him in his life, and Blaine’s heart ached with the desire to make him feel that at ease in his day to day life.

That’s what Blaine intended to do while Sam was under, of course; he just had a few other indulgences he needed to take care of first.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, wait, what was your name again?”

Sam looked bewildered by Blaine’s question, but that shock was nothing compared to what he experienced after the moment he took to open his mouth, only to find that nothing came out. “Dude, what are you talking about? I’m—uh.”

The blonde froze, his eyes darting around as he began to realize that, for some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t remember his own name. He knew he had one, and it was on the tip of his tongue...it just wasn’t forming clearly enough. “Wait, no, I know this,” he said disbelievingly, holding out his hands as if to grab at the two words that were scampering further and further away from his brain. “It’s—it’s—shit.”

Blaine did his best to hide his amusement. The pocket watch was safely stowed away in his pocket; he had helped Sam forget he was even hypnotized in the first place, but had, of course, given him a reinduction trigger: ‘Naptime.’ He’d also made sure it only worked when Blaine himself said it, so that there was no chance of sitcom-esque hijinks where Sam fell asleep every time he heard the word. 

“Well, everyone has a name,” Blaine said calmly, enjoying playing along far too much. “What does it start with?”

“I know I do,” Sam argued, “I just can’t...it’s right there, but I can’t...think of it. It starts with an S—o-or an M? I…”

“Matt?” Blaine offered, crossing a leg casually.

“No, it’s not that…it’s like, Dan or something like that, I think…” Sam trailed off into silence, his lips drawn into his mouth and creating a thin line of worry across his face. He glanced up at Blaine, brows low. “This isn’t good. It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers—or maybe I got abducted by aliens and they wiped my memories!” It sounded ridiculous, and Blaine struggled to hold back a chuckle as Sam ranted on, getting up on his feet and pacing nervously back and forth.

“Holy shit, that must be it! Blaine, you have to figure out to get them back, because what, what if it was one of those weird white aliens from Doctor Who or the agents from Men in Black used a neuralyzer on me?! That must mean I saw something the government didn’t want me to see so now I’m a casualty of their twisted Area 51 experiments and one day I’ll just disappear and none of you will be able to find me because I won’t be able to identify myself because I CAN’T REMEMBER MY NAME!”

“Sam, Sam, Sam…” Blaine was saying before he could help himself, laughing despite his best efforts not to, but it obviously did nothing to catch the blonde’s attention.

“Who’s Sam?” he asked wildly as he flung himself despondently onto the couch, looking at Blaine like he was crazy. “We’re trying to figure out who I am, not who this Sam guy is.”

“I think it’s naptime for you,” Blaine said, looking Sam square on; the confusion only registered for a split second on his friend’s face before his eyes slammed shut and he fell back against the couch, peacefully slumbering once more.

“Just relax,” Blaine said softly, scooting over to sit next to his knocked-out buddy. “Breathe slowly, and sink deeper.” Tentatively, he picked up Sam’s wrist and lifted it into the air, shaking the arm back and forth to get him to give over all the weight and tension. “Just listening to the sound of my voice, letting you fall into a deeper state of sleep and relaxation.” Blaine let go of Sam’s arms and they flopped uselessly down into his lap. “Now, when I touch you on the forehead, your name will return to you—you will be Sam Evans just as always, and the comfort of having your name back will help you feel more relaxed, and trusting.”

He swallowed thickly, adding after a split second’s debate: “And obedient.”

Lightly, Blaine pressed his finger to the center of Sam’s forehead, and he could have sworn he saw the blonde break out into a small smile as he inhaled loudly. “Can you say your name for me now?”

“Mmm…Sam Evans,” he mumbled, letting his mouth hang open as he finished speaking.

“Perfect.” Blaine paused, content to watch Sam snooze on, blissfully unaware of how tight his friend’s jeans were getting with every passing second. Slowly, Blaine began to knead at his crotch through the fabric of his burgundy corduroys, stopping when he felt the heat beginning to rush brazenly south and stain his underwear with the precum that had been steadily leaking out of his dick. The sight of Sam passed out fully, his incredible body splayed lazily across the couch, was already hot enough, but the fact that Blaine could most likely get him to do anything he wanted was perhaps the biggest turn on of all.

He wasn’t going to jump the gun just yet, though. He had to take it slow, take Sam under a few times before he could go for any of the things he really wanted to do. So Blaine just breathed in and out, trying to rein in his libido, and sat up straighter, moving back to the ottoman for fear that he would literally jump Sam if he remained by his side any longer.

“Sam,” he began slowly, “as you drift along in this relaxed state, I want you to listen to the sound of my voice and let it carry you through the sensations I’m about to describe, okay?”

Sam nodded, rumpling his hair as it dragged along the leather sofa cushions. “‘Kay, Blaine.”

Ugh, just the sound of Sam’s low, sleepy voice was enough to distract Blaine, but he had to remain casual, keep Sam’s mind pliable and trusting of his voice. The suggestion he was planning on implementing ran the line between innocent and weird, and Blaine knew Sam’s subconscious would take it as something out of the ordinary if Blaine made it seem that way.

“I just want you to focus on your feet for me,” Blaine began. “Put all your attention on them: how relaxed they feel, how relaxed you feel...and as you do this for me, you begin to notice that your feet are very, very itchy. Just notice how that sensation begins to slowly happen, how your feet began to itch more and more with every passing second.”

It only took a few seconds before Blaine saw the suggestion take effect: he could see Sam’s toes moving around in his Converse, and before long his entire foot was moving around at the ankle as it tried to escape the itch that he couldn’t shake off. Sam’s eyebrows were pulled low and his eyes were squinted tightly shut, as if he could shake the sensation away, though it was very clear from the way his feet continued to twitch that it wasn’t.

“In fact,” Blaine continued, “with every breath you take, that itching intensifies until you feel the need to rip your shoes off so that you can scratch at them.”

That suggestion didn’t take long to register with Sam; within a few seconds the blonde had ripped off his worn Converses, the only delay coming from how his motor control was still a little too clumsy while in trance to undo his laces quickly. He began to scratch at his feet incessantly, but even though his white tube socks looked thin and shabby, it obviously didn’t do much good. His hands moved rapidly up and down his entire foot, his breathing coming out in sighs when he reached a particularly good spot only to have it hitch back up again when the itching intensified.

“Now, you’re going find, Sam, that the only way you can fix this itching is by removing your socks. And as soon as you do that, the itching sensation is going to fade away completely. However,” he added as Sam’s hands immediately started yanking clumsily at the gray toes of his socks, “you’re going to find you won’t be able to pull them off, no matter how hard you try.”

Sam gripped at the fabric of his sock, trying desperately to pull it off—his fingers kept slipping off it as he pulled, as if it were covered in oil, and Blaine bit his lip as he watched Sam breathe heavily in an out as he alternated between heavily scratching at his soles and trying to free them from their itchy cotton prison. He let out a grunt, hunching over and rubbing his feet roughly into the carpet as he tried to pull down from the top of his sock this time, but it once again proved ineffectual. “Mmmmphh,” was the only sound he could make, before throwing himself back against the sofa and rubbing them vigorously into the floor. “Help,” he hissed out, his head tilted back and neck exposed.

Blaine’s muscles tightened, and he blurted out, “Hold out your feet, Sam,” which the boy did so obligingly; Blaine wanted to admire the way his feet moved with the imaginary itching, making the white fabric stretch and bunch up against his flexing muscles, but the redness in Sam’s face told him it was time for some relief. Pulling both feet onto his lap (careful to avoid his crotch since Blaine didn’t want to risk hypno-Sam noticing the raging boner in his pants), Blaine pulled the socks off, noticing instantly how Sam let out a long, audible sigh and fell back into what looked like complete bliss once more.

Which offered Blaine a long opportunity to take in one of his longtime fascinations: Sam’s feet. Although Blaine himself had pretty large feet, their size was not particularly impressive and only seemed that way because of how short he was. Sam, on the other hand, had feet that were perfectly proportional to his height (if a big bigger), and frankly, nearly perfect—at least to Blaine, who considered himself something of a connoisseur of the feet of the other guys in glee club. He was never creepy about it, he just…noticed them a lot, particularly in the past few weeks when they’d all been working out for the calendar together. He’d noticed that Ryder liked to play with his toes a lot, for example, and was constantly moving them, as if he had too much energy in the rest of him and had to let it out some other way. He saw how Jake’s always looked slightly battered, which made sense considering his heavy dance background.

Blaine had always noticed Sam’s the most; undoubtedly because Blaine had a crush on the blonde, but also because they hung out the most alone, and Sam often removed his shoes and socks when they were together at Blaine’s house. He knew Sam wore a size fourteen, cracked his toes idly when they played video games, and was sometimes self-conscious about his feet smelling bad (“But nothing reeks worse than yours,” he’d tease Blaine, who admittedly, despite regular washings, sometimes suffered from embarrassing foot odor since he never wore socks about three months out of the year). Blaine had never been this close to them, though, not even daring to touch them while Sam was asleep because it seemed…wrong, almost, like a violation of the boundaries of their friendship.

But here, having Sam’s feet sitting passively in his lap, it was all Blaine could do to avoid creaming his briefs right then and there. Sam’s feet were clean and his large soles were smooth, with an occasional callous on his toe and heel that belied his athletic lifestyle; but there was just so much of them and Blaine longed to explore it all. His fingers ran over the skin gently, almost reverently, pressing the pads of his thumb into the arch of Sam’s feet—and even in trance, it seemed to register, as Sam let out a quiet sigh. “Just let every touch of my hands on your feet intensify your relaxation, Sam,” Blaine said quietly, his mouth dry. “It feels amazing.”

“…mazin’,” Sam repeated thickly, breathing out blissfully as Blaine began to move Sam’s toes back and forth, marveling at how incredible they looked both curled and spread back. Blaine’s tongue longed to taste them, feel them in his mouth, but he knew that doing something like that the first time Sam was under hypnosis would most likely still register as strange to his friend, no matter how deep he was. He needed to go under more: get used to the sensations, enjoy it more so that he could trust Blaine completely and take in his suggestions more fully.

Blaine continued to rub absently at Sam’s feet, lifting one to his nose to smell it briefly, noticing that there was a definite musk there, but nothing too disgusting or offensive to his nose. His cock was so hard now and he set Sam’s feet back onto the ottoman, and so he ran across the hall to his room to grab a t-shirt. He sat on the floor next to the ottoman, staring at Sam’s feet hungrily as he pulled his corduroys down and began to jerk himself off, doing his best to remain quiet but still gasping out a shaky breath when he came into the t-shirt that he held over his dick to prevent his jizz from staining any of the furniture.

It was the best orgasm he’d felt in his entire life, being able to look at Sam’s feet unabashed as he came, but he was more excited about the future than anything.

“Sam,” he began, his voice sounding more ragged post-orgasm as he zipped his pants back up and slipped the t-shirt under the sofa, “in a moment I’m going to count from one to five and wake you up. When you wake up, the memories of what happened in trance are going to fade away, and it will not seem strange to you that you are barefoot. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Blaine.”

“However, I want you to think about that itching sensation you felt while you had your socks on, Sam.” Instantly Sam’s brow furrowed as he remembered the discomfort, and Blaine nodded excitedly. “Yes, remember how much you disliked it, and when you wake up you’ll know those sensations are true, and that it’s socks that cause them. So you’ll make every effort to not wear socks, because you find them incredibly stifling and uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, his toes wiggling as if celebrating their newfound freedom. Blaine relished in watching how his soles wrinkled briefly. “Nah comfa’ble…no socks.”

“You’ll also find yourself wanting to be barefoot more often,” Blaine added, nodding in satisfaction with his own idea, though he didn’t extrapolate more. He just wanted to see what Sam would take that to mean. “In fact, you’ll find that this new wardrobe change, this…lack of socks…will help you concentrate better, which you’ll notice when you study for your history test. It’ll be so much easier for you to retain information and you’ll find yourself getting less stressed about your schoolwork as a result.”

Sam nodded again, and as Blaine began counting him up, he didn’t notice until he’d snapped his fingers and Sam had awoken that he hadn’t given him a suggestion to desire being put under hypnosis again; Blaine briefly considered dropping Sam back under briefly, but the first thing Sam said upon waking was not about the fact that his feet were bare and resting presentationally on the ottoman, but rather, “That was so cool! I feel awesome!”

So yeah, Blaine was not too worried about Sam wanting to be put under again. Especially when he left to go study a few minutes later and stuffed his bare feet into his Converse, leaving his socks forgotten by the couch, Blaine realized Sam’s abilities as a hypnotic subject could only improve from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long—and sorry that it's not too exciting, but everything good needs build-up, right??


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine saw the results of his post-hypnotic suggestion on Sam immediately, beginning that next day at school. Although that may have only been because Blaine was looking specifically for it. When he sat down next to Sam at their usual table in science (it was the only class they actually shared), he couldn’t keep himself from glancing down at Sam’s shoes under the pretense of checking his phone. 

Sure enough, Sam had worn his usual pair of slip-on Converses, and when the legs of his jeans lifted as he sat down, Blaine saw that his ankles were bare.

“Hey…” Blaine muttered after a few seconds of trying to muster up the courage to bring this up—Sam obviously didn’t realize that this was part of his post-hypnotic suggestion, so Blaine wanted to be as casual a possible to avoid arousing suspicion (even if he couldn’t really avoid arousing himself). “You run out of socks today or something?” he asked, nudging Sam’s foot with his own.

“Huh? Oh, nah,” Sam replied casually, pulling out his notebook and flipping through it for last class’ notes. “I just…didn’t really wanna wear ‘em. I was inspired to try some of your fashion,” he said with a laugh, nudging back at Blaine, indicating Blaine’s topsiders that, indeed, he’d worn without socks. “My feet feel a lot freer though,” he admitted with a shrug. “I get why you do it now.”

“Just watch out for blisters, though,” Blaine warned. “They suck.”

Sam responded by kicking off his shoes, and pulling each of his feet into his lap in turn, examining them briefly before placing them back down. “Looks like I’m good in that department,” he replied. “Although they might smell,” he said, a grimace pulling across his face.

“I uh…I think you’re fine,” Blaine said, fighting to keep his voice casual as he felt himself instantly get hard at the sight of Sam so casually putting his feet on display—and it only got worse when Sam didn’t bother to put his shoes back on, instead resting his feet on top of them, where they remained for the entire class. 

Blaine didn’t say anything else all of class, but it was impossible to keep his eyes off them entirely. Sam’s feet were just so _beautiful_ to him, that he could have watched them idly move around underneath his chair all day. It was like he’d been put in a trance of his own, but then the bell was ringing and jerking him out of his reverie; when he and Sam went their separate ways to different math classes, he was never more glad for the lack of distraction.

Sam, however, seemed to be experiencing the exact opposite: after school on their way to glee club practice, he couldn’t stop raving about how much their hypnosis session had made the day easier for him.

“It was like my brain was a _laser_ , dude,” he gushed as they neared the choir room. “We had a pop quiz in pre-cal and I finished so fast I thought I was Barry Allen or something.”

“You mean Wally West?” Blaine offered, correcting Sam on what he thought to be The Flash’s correct alter ego.  
  
“Psh, you definitely need a refresher,” Sam teased, punching the shorter boy lightly in the shoulder. “Barry Allen was the Flash _way_ before Wally West. But anyway, you totally have to hypnotize me again soon; If we go at this rate I’ll be a genius in no time!”

“That’s now how it works, Sam,” Blaine replied. “It just helps you concentrate better.”

“Still! It felt really cool, I’m down for it, and I hope you are too.” 

Patting his friend on the shoulder, Sam made a beeline for Brittany and sat down beside her, who Blaine could hear murmur as he passed them: “Did the closet elves steal all your socks?”

Needless to say, Blaine was once again distracted during glee practice, which came to a culmination when they got up to learn new steps and Sam decided to casually slip his shoes off before they started.

“Uh, Sam,” Will asked, brow furrowed, as Sam loped up to the open space, noticeably barefoot, “why no shoes?”

Sam shrugged, toes wiggling against the linoleum. “I don’t know…thought it might help me move better.” 

“I don’t think that’ll help,” Brittany said flatly, earning her a strange look from Sam. “Sorry, Sam. Your lips are marshmallow soft and your blonde locks are almost as luscious as mine but you aren’t a super good dancer like me.” 

“Not to mention they make you look even poorer than Marley & Me,” Kitty snapped from over near Marley. “No offense,” she said without any hint of actual apology, eyes flicking over to the brunette next to her.

“I was homeless,” Sam replied, raising an eyebrow.

Kitty just pursed her lips. “Not my problem.”

“Joe Hart did it all the time!” Sam protested. (“Who?” asked Brittany.)

“And now look at him—he hasn’t been to glee practice in months. He literally showed up for the calendar last week, said maybe five words, and then disappeared again,” Kitty pointed out. “Ten bucks says he and Seabiscuit don’t pop up until the day before Regionals, when they’ll suddenly inexplicably know all the choreography and lyrics perfectly.” 

“Does Joe even go to this school?” Ryder wondered aloud from his chair. Jake shrugged and Sam pointed at him eagerly.

“Exactly! At least I’m here, so why does it even matter if I want to wear shoes or not? This is _America_ , people. If Tina is allowed to suddenly get sneaky-hot, I should be allowed to keep my constitutional right to dance barefoot and potentially get ringworm!”

“He… _did_ show up to school last week in nothing but a swimsuit and Uggs,” Blaine cut in, the first thing he’d said since he was more focused on calming down the boner that had been raging all day. “And no one said anything then.”

Mr. Schue, for once, seemed to recognize this ridiculous double standard that the school had, and so gave a simple shrug. “If Sam wants to dance without shoes, I don’t really see a problem with it.”

“Boom.” After clapping in Kitty’s face, Sam scurried over to Blaine, who gave his friend a small smile and, after a moment of consideration, stepped out of his boat shoes and nudged them over to the side of the room. The linoleum was chilly on his bare soles, but when Sam shot him a grin and nudged his toes with his own, the rush it gave Blaine was more than worth it, ringworm be damned. 

Luckily, nothing of the sort happened, so when they were heading to the parking lot (Sam usually rode home with Blaine, seeing as he didn’t have a car of his own), Sam seemed to be in a particularly good mood, rambling on about how excited he was for regionals.

“We should do a number in loincloths!” he was saying as he clambered into the passenger seat of Blaine’s car. “Like, ‘Roar’ or something. That way I don’t have to wear shoes _or_ a shirt!” 

That, of course, sounded like every one of Blaine’s fantasies wrapped up into a beautiful musical package, but instead he just laughed and buckled his seatbelt as he started the car, goodnaturedly replying, “Well, we don’t all have abs like you, Sam, so I’d be fine with the usual bowties and suspenders.” After turning the car on and glancing over at Sam, who was fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie, he had a sudden burst of courage. “Naptime,” he said, and Sam let out a surprised sigh as his eyes slid shut and his head fell back, thumping against the headrest.

“You did say you wanted to be hypnotized again, right, Sam?” he muttered, a fond smile on his face as he took in Sam’s blissful sleeping face.

“Yeah…” Sam replied quietly, his own lips curving into a dopey grin. “Wanna…be hyp’tized…" 

“Why is that?” Blaine asked.

“Mmm…feels good…” Sam said slowly, drawing out the words as he snoozed.

“Well, would you like to feel even better?” Blaine asked, and Sam nodded, mussing his hair against the headrest. “I’m going to drive us home, and you will remain like this the whole way. You won’t remember being under hypnosis at all. When I snap my fingers, you’ll sit up straight, open your eyes, and begin counting down from five hundred, repeating the phrase “I am deeply hypnotized” after every number. And with every number you count, you fall deeper and deeper into trance, and you will become more open and obedient to my suggestions. Do you understand? 

“Unnerstan’…” Sam responded, taking a deep breath as he repeated, “Deeeeeeeeply hypnotized.”

“Then start counting now,” Blaine said, and snapped his fingers. As if moving underwater, Sam slowly shifted so that he sitting up perfectly straight in the seat of the car, and once he was there his eyes slowly fluttered open, hanging at half-mast—Blaine assumed because of the effort it would have taken to keep them open all the way.

“Five hundred…I am deeply hypnotized…four-hundred n’ ninety-nine…I am deeply hypnotized…”

That was the soundtrack to Blaine’s ride home, Sam dutifully completing the task Blaine had given him. As they drove, Sam’s counting began to get slower and more abstracted, and they were at a red light when Blaine heard him skipping numbers.

“Four-hundred-eleven…I’m deeply hypnotized…Four…hundred and…and n-n-eight…”

“Sam, be careful not to skip,” Blaine warned playfully. Sam yawned deeply, his head lolling a bit as he straightened himself up again. 

“Sorry…” he replied. “Hard t’remember…”

“Just keep trying,” Blaine said, “and know that every number you count makes you feel _so_ wonderful all over.”

“Yeahhhh,” Sam sighed, and he resumed counting. “Four hundred seven…deeply hypnotized…” The light turned green and Blaine turned onto his street, pulling into his driveway as Sam passed three-hundred and ninety-three.

“Stop counting now,” Blaine said as he shut the car off, glad his parents wouldn’t be home for some time.

“Okay, Blaine,” Sam replied, sitting complacently in the seat. Without the stimulus of counting to occupy him, his posture began to sag more, his head steadily dropping as sleep threatened to overwhelm him again. He really _was_ deep, and so in the interest of not losing him to a full-blown afternoon nap, Blaine quickly reached across Sam’s lap to unbuckle his seat belt for him—only to be stopped by feeling a noticeable bulge in the crotch of his friend’s jeans. Sam squirmed a little underneath the contact and made a tiny noise in the back of his throat, but didn’t move away, confirming Blaine’s suspicions.

Sam most definitely had a boner.

Blaine’s hand shot back instantly, as if he’d overstepped some boundary on purpose and not _on total accident which it was because he never anticipated Sam getting a random boner of his own accord_. It took him a moment to remind himself he hadn’t _told_ Sam to get a boner, that it was happening without any hypnotic suggestion from him, and yet there was a part of him that was fascinated by the how and why of it. The logical side of Blaine’s brain said it was just because Sam felt so relaxed, so maybe all the blood in his body had just sunk into his crotch? Then again, he wasn’t that great at science…maybe it would be better just to ask Sam himself.

“Sam,” Blaine asked slowly, his voice careful and quiet, “how do you feel?”

As expected, it took Sam a moment to respond, and even when he did talk, the words were slurred, not forming fully on his tongue. “Mmm…great.”

“What else?” Blaine asked, unsatisfied.

Sam smacked his lips once, and his head cocked to the side a little, trying to get his trance-addled brain back in gear. “Real relaxed…sssleeepy…” He yawned. “Lil’ horny…”

That was all Blaine needed to hear. Fighting through the incredibly sexy sound of hypnotized-Sam admitting he was turned on, he asked, “Do you know why you feel that way, Sam?”

“I’unno…” Sam said after a second. “’m always a lil’ horny…”

That was true. They were guys in high school—a constant state of arousal was pretty much expected. Feeling a bit of relief, though still definitely curious, Blaine decided to put it on the backburner for a moment, and not really attempt to work off Sam’s arousal, especially if it was just a random one-time thing. “That’s fine, Sam,” he said, and at the subtle praise Sam’s lips perked up into a tiny smile. “However you feel is perfectly fine. And part of you knows it’s the hypnosis that’s making you feel this way, that you have the ability to feel this great all the time. You feel safe and at ease, and completely comfortable with whatever happens.”

“Yeah…” Sam replied; then, slowly, his hand began to slide across his thigh, resting briefly on his crotch before it began to press down into his junk, kneading at it softly. His breathing began to quicken and a tiny moan escaped from his mouth.

Blaine’s eyes widened. He had _not_ expected that to happen, either, and instantly he was on it, silencing the part of him that desperately wanted to see Sam touch himself in trance. “Don’t touch yourself now, Sam,” he said, and the movement ceased, Sam sighing out a “Sorry” and letting his head fall back against the headrest. The bulge began to shrink once more, and Blaine’s eyes narrowed. There had to be something more to this. 

But hey, he had plenty of time to figure it out. Right now, Sam’s feet had been taunting him all day and he intended on getting to spend some time with them. Maybe the whole “wanting to always be barefoot” suggestion had backfired on Blaine more than he’d expected, but at least now he had a way to let out all that sexual frustration.

“Sam,” he began, “in a moment I’m going to snap my fingers, and when I do you’ll wake up, feeling refreshed and wonderful. You won’t remember being hypnotized on the way here; you’ll just remember having a nondescript ride home with me. Once we get inside, after a while you’re going to realize that your feet are pretty sore, and you’re going to ask me for a foot rub. It won’t seem weird to you at all—and when I give you one it’s going to feel like the best, most relaxing thing in the world for you. Do you understand?”

Again, Sam nodded. “Yeah.” 

Blaine smiled, and licked his lips, his fingers held up in snap-ready position. “On the count of three, Sam…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I can hear you guys now: "This took THAT long, and still only a HINT of sexy times??? WTF!!!" But just be patient...it's coming (as are a few other people hehehe). Starting with the next chapter, I expect. The writer in me refuses to just write PWP, so you get all this ridiculous buildup instead lol
> 
> Also, I went back and edited the last chapter very slightly: Chord recently tweeted his shoe size during a Q&A, and apparently his feet are WAY bigger than a size 12: he wears a 14! So I changed that reference in the last chapter, and needless to say his enormous foot size will definitely be coming into play in this story. Until then, please comment/kudos/fave/etc and I hope you enjoyed! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! So this took forever to get up, but between summer classes every day, looking for an apartment, and laptop troubles, it was quite the feat (no pun intended lol). However, this is definitely a lengthier chapter than the others, and hopefully it delivers quite a bit more excitement.
> 
> Also, I've got a little poll of sorts for you guys at the end of the chapter...but until then, enjoy!

By Blaine’s estimation, it took about seven minutes after they got inside before Sam was complaining. Not that he was counting or anything. He was just, y’know, really eager. _Really_ eager.

After grabbing a snack from the kitchen, they’d gone into Blaine’s room to ditch their backpacks and try to get some homework done before they inevitably got into a debate about whether or not X-Men: First Class was any better than the original trilogy (which, they usually agreed, it was, deviations from the canon aside). Blaine only hoped it wouldn’t take that long.

Blaine was at his desk, homework laid neatly across it, facing away from the bed where Sam had essentially dumped the contents of his backpack onto the comforter. Blaine wasn’t actually _doing_ any work, just sort of doodling his name in his notebook, when after a few of the most anticipatory minutes of his life, he heard a groan from behind him, and turned around as casually as possible.

Sam was sitting on the edge of Blaine’s bed, feet bare. His shoes had been tossed off onto the floor nearby, and he was circling his ankles slowly, flexing his feet as he did so. Blaine was tempted to just watch _that_ , but that would have made the whole picture even weirder. “You okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow to make it look like he had no idea what was going on.

“Man, I think dancing without shoes in glee today did a number on me,” Sam said, squinting one eye as he rotated his feet in opposite direction, spreading his toes experimentally. “I never understood what all those sports shoe ads were talking about when they said ‘arch support’ but now I get it. My feet are _killing_ me.”

“I feel that,” said Blaine, although he really didn’t; he went without socks a lot, sure, but he still at least kept his shoes on. For a second he thought maybe giving Sam a penchant for being shoeless was inconsiderate on his part, but then he remembered that Sam only _thought_ his feet were sore thanks to the post-hypnotic suggestion.

It was pretty fascinating, come to think of it, that Sam could have a physical experience that came solely from his mind—or at least _think_ he was having one. It made Blaine wonder what other body parts of Sam he could have an effect on while he was in trance, but that was a bridge he would cross when he and Sam felt more comfortable with the hypnosis. Not that Sam didn’t seem pretty comfortable with it already, and hey, he was clearly taking these suggestions easily, too.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, holding one foot with his hand and pressing his thumbs into the sole in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Against his will, Blaine licked his bottom lip. “Help me out, dude,” Sam said, looking up at Blaine imploringly.

“Sorry?” Blaine replied, doing his best to hide the fact that he was popping a boner as they spoke. Although he knew exactly what Sam was going to ask, he also wanted to hear Sam say it. 

Sam sighed. “Look, this is probably gonna sound weird, but…if you give me a foot massage right now, I’ll love you forever.” Blaine didn’t say anything for a second, and Sam apparently took his lack of a response as hesitation (which it definitely wasn’t), and hastily added, “If you think it’s gross I’ll totally, like, pay you or something. It’s just, I’m _dying_ here.”

“You don’t have to pay me,” Blaine said with a laugh, hoping his response didn’t sound too manufactured. “It’s fine. I’ve got you.”

“Seriously?” Sam’s eyes lit up, and his mouth dropped open into a surprised grin. “Awesome, thank you!” Using his arms, he propelled himself back so that he was leaning against the back of Blaine’s bedframe. His soles, now proudly on display, caught Blaine’s attention instantly. “Between the hypnosis and this, you’re a lifesaver, dude.”

“It’s nothing,” Blaine assured him genuinely, crossing over to the bed and sitting on the end. “It’s what bros do, right?” Luckily with the way Sam was sitting there was plenty of room at the bottom, so Blaine crawled up onto it (after kicking off his own shoes, of course) and crossed his legs beside Sam’s feet. Gently, almost reverently, he took one of Sam’s feet and propped it up on his knee, and slowly began to massage it.

Sam had been talking in response to Blaine’s question the whole time, only to cut himself off when Blaine started the massage. “Well, I’ve never had a guy give me a foot rub before but—oh, _God_.” He let out a grateful sigh, and Blaine could see him relax instantly, shoulders dropping as Blaine’s hands worked magic on his left foot. “That feels great.”

Blaine remained quiet, focusing all his attention on giving Sam’s foot the attention they deserved. He squeezed at the muscles on the side of Sam’s foot, the pads of his thumbs pressing into the middle of his arch and kneading the muscles there. Having Sam’s feet to himself was, quite literally, a dream come true, but a quick glance up at Sam’s face indicated that his eyes were blissfully closed, so Blaine just hoped he wouldn’t open them up and see the boner raging in his pants.

“You’re the best, dude. Seriously,” Sam muttered under his breath. He hissed in as Blaine’s hands caught a particularly tight muscle in the his heel, letting out a grateful breath as the muscle slowly came undone. Blaine moved to the other foot, marveling how the rest of Sam’s body seemed to melt into the mattress as Blaine’s hands rubbed gently on the soles of his feet. “They don’t smell, right?” Sam asked, lifting his head up and opening his eyes. “I’d feel bad if they did.”

Truthfully, they did a little bit, but not enough that it bothered Blaine, who sort of enjoyed it as a sign of Sam’s energetic and masculine behavior. Which probably sounded weird, but whatever. Emboldened by his recent spur-of-the-moment induction, Blaine lifted Sam’s foot to his nose and took an over exaggerated sniff, trying to make it seem humorous and not creepy. “You’re fine,” he said after a second of dramatic consideration. Sam just chuckled.

“Gross, dude,” he said as he laughed suddenly while Blaine sniffed, his soles wrinkling at the sensation of Blaine’s breath on his skin. His foot wiggled around a bit and Blaine pulled it back down into his lap. “That tickled,” he admitted, sounding sort of apologetic for the momentary spazz.

Blaine cocked an eyebrow. In all his time he’d known Sam, he’d never known that about him. “You’re ticklish?” he asked, still rubbing Sam’s feet. He could feel Sam tense a little at the question—perhaps recalling what it felt like? “Seriously?”

“…Just a little,” Sam replied after a moment, though that sounded suspicious to Blaine. He quickly scratched his fingers at Sam’s sole, eliciting a yelp of laughter from the blonde, his foot jerking back instinctively. “Okay okay maybe a lot!” he blurted out frantically, just as Blaine stopped, laughing himself as he pulled his fingers away and started the massage back up. “You can’t do that,” Sam warned lightly, though there was still a little residual laughing from the surprise of having his feet suddenly attacked like that. “I’ll freak out." 

“I can see that,” Blaine chuckled, his fingers digging into Sam’s arch. Sam let out a grateful sigh, and Blaine saw the blonde’s tension melt away, falling back more fully against the headboard. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tickle you.” _At least while you’re awake,_ he thought mischievously to himself. “Just relax.” 

“Believe me, I am,” Sam said, wiggling a bit lower so that he could lie back more comfortably. Blaine scooted back hurriedly to avoid Sam’s foot being pressed into his crotch—not that he wouldn’t love that, but it would undoubtedly weird Sam out, and discussing his fetishes was _not_ something Blaine was planning to do today. Blaine’s fingers dug into Sam’s soles, and Sam quietly moaned with what sounded like pleasure, and Blaine could feel himself getting harder. 

“This is _amazing_ ,” Sam said, his voice low and coming from the back of his throat. “This is why having guy friends is the best. Every girl I’ve ever dated has been grossed out by my feet.”

“I mean, I get that,” Blaine lied, redoubling his efforts and pulling Sam’s other foot into his lap. He began to massage them both and Sam let out another grateful noise. “But at the risk of sounding weird…you’ve got pretty nice feet.”

Sam chuckled, though it was pretty quiet and abstracted, as if the effort was too much for him. “Thanks, dude.” He wiggled his long toes as if stretching them, and Blaine felt his tongue dart out across his lips again, longing to taste them. Make Sam writhe with pleasure at the sensations in his feet, the skin Blaine now knew was incredibly sensitive. He continued to make small noises as Blaine continued the massage, his breathing long and relaxed. 

“They’re huge though,” Blaine continued after a moment, part of him feeling incredibly satisfied by being able to discuss Sam’s feet without it being too weird. Because yeah, they were enormous, almost as big as Finn’s, whose feet Blaine had seen on occasion (he still didn’t know what size Finn wore exactly, since he hadn’t really had the courage to ask Kurt who probably would’ve found it strange). “My hands have their work cut out for them. What size are they?”

“Fourteen,” Sam sighed out blissfully, his mouth staying dropped open. Blaine already knew that (or was pretty sure he’d heard Sam mention it, but sometimes it seemed to good to be true, because part of Blaine really wanted to know if what they said about guys with big feet was true). “I’d say you could stop if you’re tired…but I don’t want ya too.”

“I was kidding,” Blaine assured him, his hands moving more intensely against Sam’s muscles. “This isn’t bad, promise. Just let your worries go, Sam and let me help you relax.”

“Mmmm, yeah.” Sam smiled a bit as he drew his arms up to stretch them briefly, his shirt pulling up just enough to reveal the bottom of his bare torso. He brought his arms to rest on his chest, but the shirt stayed up; it was almost as if he hadn’t noticed. “Sounds good.” 

“You’ve had a long day and stuff, y’know?” Blaine continued casually. “You need to take a load off sometimes.”

Sam nodded slowly, his eyes lightly closed, and Blaine could sense that he was starting to drift further away. “Totally…” he muttered softly. 

Blaine inhaled deeply, starting to catch on to what was happening. It seemed as though Sam was taking his post-hypnotic suggestion way more intensely than Blaine had originally anticipated; it was almost as if the blonde was inadvertently falling back into a trance. Blaine was ready to experiment, so he began to improvise, speaking in a low voice as he continued his steady massage: “All you really need to do is just breathe and relax and listen to my voice, because it’s really not that hard to just focus in on what I’m saying.” 

Sam didn’t say anything, but that was probably a good thing, since it most likely meant he didn’t find anything strange with what Blaine was telling him. 

“Just listen…breathe…and relax…” Blaine repeated.

“Relax…” Sam murmured, the suggestion taking hold in his mind.

“And you know that just by listening to me, you’ll feel so incredibly relaxed and wonderful. You might even start drifting away a little, and that’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly. “’s fine.”

“Exactly,” Blaine reassured, a smile in his words. He started to dig his fingers gently into the arch of Sam’s feet. “Just the touch of my hands on your feet is enough to make you feel more relaxed and at ease, and it’s so simple to just listen to the sound of my voice and let yourself sink down, back into the familiar place of relaxation and sleep." 

“Sleep…” Sam’s lips perked up a little as that word took hold in his mind, and he sighed out dreamily.

“Would you like to sleep, Sam?”

“Yeah…” It sounded less like the actual word and more like a grunt of approval, but Blaine could hear the desire in Sam’s voice. “’m sleepy…” 

“Well, if you’re sleepy, Sam,” Blaine told him, noting how cute the phrase “sleepy Sam” sounded, “just listen to me as I count back from five, and when I hit zero, you’re going to let yourself fall back into warm, comfortable hypnosis, and the rest of your body is going to feel as amazing and relaxed as your feet do right now. Does that sound good?" 

Sam’s tiny smile grew wider into a dopey grin. “Yeah…please…” 

The fact that Sam almost sounded like he was begging to be hypnotized rung a little strange to Blaine, but right now he was so horny he couldn’t think about anything else except the fact that he had a sleepy, suggestible Sam knocked out on his bed, with his bare feet in his lap. So perhaps he counted down a bit more quickly than usual, but Sam went under all the same, letting out a sigh as his entire body turned to jelly.

Blaine stopped his massage finally, and although honestly he would have been content doing that all afternoon, right now he had something else he wanted to explore. “Sam,” he began as he hopped off the bed and began to undo the button of his pants, “sit up straight and open your eyes, but remain deeply asleep.”

Slowly, Sam pulled himself up against the headboard so that he was no longer slumped against it, and his eyes fluttered open. His heart pounding, Blaine slipped off his pants and crawled onto the bed in front of Sam, palming himself through his boxer briefs. “In a moment I’m going to snap my fingers, and when I do you’re going to behave as though you’re totally awake. You’ll still be deep in trance, though, ready to listen to my suggestions, and nothing I say or do is going to seem strange to you at all. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Blaine.”

Blaine inhaled deeply and snapped his fingers. In an instant, the light returned to Sam’s gaze and he blinked a few times. He straightened himself up further and crossed his legs, looking at Blaine expectantly, like a puppy waiting for a command. Which, of course, Blaine was more than happy to give him. 

Still rubbing himself, Blaine looked Sam determinedly in the eyes. “You really enjoyed the foot massage I just gave you, right?”

“Yeah!” Sam replied enthusiastically, blissfully unaware of the fact that Blaine was totally getting off to hearing this. “It felt awesome.”

“Well, the cool thing is,” Blaine said, a playful and knowing smile on his face, “I’ll give them to you whenever you want.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised, reminding Blaine of a little kid. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, all you have to do is ask.”  

“Cool!” Sam answered. “All I have to do is ask,” he repeated, and that was what really clued Blaine in to the fact that he was still deeply, utterly hypnotized.

“All you have to do is ask,” Blaine agreed. “And from now on, since you liked it so much, you’re going to ask me for them a lot more, aren’t you?”

He nodded his head as he asked the question, leading Sam to do this same, his head bobbing readily and eyes wide. “Okay,” he said dumbly. “Sure.”

“And you’re not going to have any problem showing off your feet around me.” Blaine was pressing the point a bit hard, sure, but considering how hot Sam’s feet were, he wanted to get as much of them in his life as possible. Plus, it was super cute seeing Sam blindly and happily agree to his suggestions like this.

“Okay!” the blonde repeated. “I like being barefoot anyways." 

 _Oh, shit._ Having briefly forgotten about his last post-hypnotic suggestion for Sam, he almost creamed himself right there, but with a sharp intake of breathhe pulled his hand off his cock and slipped out of his underwear, looking at Sam’s blankly happy expression with an incredible longing. His own dick was flushed and hard, bobbing in the air, but if Sam saw it he took no notice of it. He just looked at Blaine, waiting for his next command. Blaine dashed into his bathroom, returning with a towel that he spread out onto the bedspread.

“Sam, stick out your feet for me.” 

“Here ya go,” Sam replied brightly, sliding his size fourteens out from under him, onto the towel.

Blaine readied himself, but paused. “You said your feet are ticklish, right?” he asked.

Sam nodded, his lips pursed matter-of-factly. “Yeah, _really_ ticklish,” he admitted, completely truthful thanks to his trance. 

“On a scale of one to ten, how ticklish are they?”

Sam was silent for a moment, his lips drawn into a thoughtful line. “I…don’t know,” he admitted after a moment. He sounded a little nervous. Blaine perked an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?”

“It’s not between one and ten.”

Blaine a surge of arousal. “What number is it, Sam?”

Sam sounded almost guilty as he said it: “Like a twelve.” And that was enough to force Blaine into action, because he was about to explode.

“Well, right now, you’re not going to feel ticklish at all,” he told Sam, “and in fact, nothing I’m about to do is going to seem weird to you at all.”

“Yeah,” Sam repeated, in an airy tone of almost surprise. “Nothing’s weird at all.”

“Just sit back and let your mind go blank, Sam,” Blaine commanded, and as he snapped his fingers Sam slowly melted back against the sofa, falling silent. Blaine leaned forward and waved his hand in front of Sam’s eyes, which were glazed over and slightly crossed thanks to a lack of focus. There was no response.

Meaning Blaine was free to pull Sam’s feet towards him and maneuver them so that they were pressed together at the sole, leaving a gap between his arches that Blaine slid his dick through with a sort of reverence. He’d never done this before, but the mere sensation of Sam’s soles on his shaft was enough to make him moan with a newfound electric pleasure. Sure enough, Sam did not respond, and a quick glance back at his zonked-out face confirmed that he could finally fulfill one of his biggest fantasies.

Blaine slid his cock back and forth in the makeshift hole formed by Sam’s arches and he  began to pant heavily, his hands holding Sam’s feet together so that he could get as much friction as possible. The heat was already pooled in his stomach, so it didn’t take long before he could feel himself getting close.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his thrusting getting faster, and when his gaze wandered up, he saw Sam’s blissed-out face, his blank, faraway gaze complimented by a wide, dopey, closed-mouth grin that sent him over the edge.

And as Blaine finally came, his seed spilling in red hot waves onto the towel and over Sam’s soles, unbeknownst to him, that grin grew just the tiniest bit wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so my question: as far as future chapters go, would you be interested in Blaine hypnotizing any of the other boys in New Directions, i.e. Jake, Ryder, Joe, possibly Finn or Puck? The focus would still obviously be on Sam, but I think exploring how easily (or not so easily) some of those guys get hypnotized would be interesting...after all, they can't all be as good of subjects as Sam...or perhaps Blaine really has a knack for this hypnosis thing? Either way, leave your thoughts in the comments below, and as always, thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

The week that followed was probably the most exciting of Blaine’s life (yes, in _that_ way as well). After his first foray into doing something overtly sexual while Sam was under, he began to gain a considerable amount of confidence in pushing the limits of what he could do with hypno-Sam, and how often he could do it.

Sam, ever the receptive subject, only made it easier. Blaine’s post-hypnotic suggestions seemed to resonate with him incredibly well, to the point that the days they came home from school together (which was often, considering Blaine’s family was almost always out and the Hudson-Hummel house was too full for Sam to do anything without getting distracted), as soon as they sat down to do anything for an extended period of time Sam would reflexively kick his shoes off and set them in Blaine’s lap expectantly. 

Blaine, of course, was more than happy to oblige. Granted, he’d had to adjust Sam’s tendency to fall back into hypnosis while having his feet rubbed, which Blaine hadn’t expected—but he also hadn’t expected Sam to be this great of a subject.

He didn’t try to push the whole Sam-having-a-boner-while-under thing, although he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t scored a few glances while Sam was snoozing away; sure enough, there’d be a distinctly larger-than-average lump in his best friend’s jeans, but in attempt to not make Sam do anything he didn’t wanna do (since Blaine was usually content to just jack himself off to Sam’s feet, or sometimes, _on_ to them), he never questioned it and just wrote it off as a byproduct of the intense pleasurable sensations being in a trance entailed.

Blaine would say it was all going well until Sam mentioned it at Sugar Motta’s co-ed glee club sleepover the next weekend, but if anything it got a lot better. 

Sam didn’t mention the feet thing, obviously. Even in spite of the post-hypnotic suggestions he still knew other people would probably see it as a weird thing, but mentioning hypnosis in itself was enough to catch the attention of the other glee clubbers.

“You mean that mumbo jumbo ‘look into my eyes’ crap?” Kitty scoffed, braiding her hair while looking into one of the many giant mirrors in the Motta family’s “teen room” (meaning a fully furnished basement that was bigger than even Blaine’s den). “I would call bull malarkey on that, but I feel like if there’s anyone in this room dumb enough for that to work on, it’d be Sam.” she added after a considerate pause.

“That was rude,” Sam muttered sourly from his position in front of the giant flat-screen TV where he and Artie were currently playing an intense game of Nazi Zombies.

“Calm down,” she replied nonchalantly, “the only reason I didn’t include Brittany is because she’s in the bathroom.”

“That’s...even more rude,” Blaine replied, having immersed himself quite fully in the chips and guac Sugar had laid out. Despite his embarrassment, no one in the room was really looking at him, despite the fact that Sam had blatantly told them all that Blaine had hypnotized him last week.

“Whatever,” Kitty said, tossing her hair as she headed for the stairs to go up to the kitchen and grab a drink. “I’ll believe it when I see Sam clucking like a chicken.”

“Okay, fine,” Sam announced, hitting pause on the game (much to Artie’s chagrin). “Show ‘em, Blaine.” He leaned back into the couch, while Blaine just slowly looked up from his snack from where he was standing at a table in the corner.

“Right now?”

“Yeah, dude,” Sam told him. “It’s a sleepover—make me do something crazy. But, not _too_ crazy…you know what I mean.” Blaine just nodded, exasperatedly getting up from his chair, already trying to figure out the ways he could pull this off without getting a very obvious boner.

“Do it!” Artie said, spinning his wheelchair around; this was echoed by choruses from the other glee club members, many of whom gathered around the sofa—even Kitty, who crossed her arms and stood front and center with a dry, “I gotta see this.”

“So how do you do it?” Ryder asked bemusedly, his arms crossed in intrigue. “Don’t you like, swing a watch in front of his eyes?”

“I don’t get how _that_ would make anyone sleepy,” Jake muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“Well,” Joe added (he’d actually shown up, much to Kitty’s chagrin), “those spirals on TV shows and stuff are super trippy, so maybe a watch does the same thing?” 

Jake scoffed. “Still don’t buy it.”

“I actually did use a watch when I put him under the first time,” Blaine told them, standing with them in the crowd around Sam, who clearly was enjoying the attention and the potential to do ridiculous things for his friends (Blaine didn’t see how this would be different from him in day-to-day life, but nonetheless). “But now all I need to do is to say _naptime_.” 

Now exceptionally conditioned, Sam’s eyes rolled back and he fell back against the sofa. For some reason his eyes didn’t close all the way, leaving a tiny sliver of their whites visible as his eyelids fluttered in the imitation of REM sleep. The other glee club members laughed at the suddenness of his drop into trance, Marley gasped a little bit as if she’d never seen someone sleeping in front of her, and Kitty just chuckled.

“Is that all?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Well, I have to give him suggestions.” Blaine said. “And…aside from like, killing someone or robbing a bank, I’m pretty sure he’ll do anything.”

Kitty’s pursed lips grew into a smirk. “Well, gang, let’s start spitballing.”

And as it turned out, some of the other glee clubbers’ suggestions weren’t that bad. After having Sam do his best impression of a chicken (which, given his expertise in impersonating humans, was understandably en pointe), Blaine started to get bombarded with ideas from his friends. The first one he went with was classic exhibitionism: every time someone asked Sam for the time, he would take off an article of clothing.

Of course, Blaine would stop him before he got to taking off his underwear, but he still enjoyed the process of watching Sam try to figure out why everyone kept asking him variants of the same question.

“Dude, I _just_ told Ryder,” he said to Artie, yanking off his hoodie as he pulled out his phone. “It’s like, ten-forty.”

“Wait, I didn’t hear that,” Tina said playfully, giggling with Marley. “What time did you say it was?”

“TEN-FORTY!” Sam shouted back, pulling his shirt over his head. “Jesus, y’all deaf or something?” He’d already kicked off his shoes (which Blaine had told him to put back on while he was under, since he’d initially taken them off immediately upon arriving to the party), so at this point he was left in just his jeans and underwear. 

Blaine, quite obviously, enjoyed the view immensely. Sam _had_ still been working out a lot post-calendar, and his abs were more defined than ever. The blonde didn’t even seem to notice he was shirtless, however, which made it even hotter, and Blaine made a concerted effort to _not_ watch his best friend wander around the Motta home half-naked.

However, when Kitty dealt the final blow asking Sam the time again, Blaine quickly swooped in just as Sam unbuttoned and began to unzip his jeans. “Naptime,” he said, and Sam collapsed like a sack of bricks, Blaine barely catching him in time. His knees buckled under the sudden weight, but Sam’s completely limp body was a tangible reminder to Blaine how deeply he was under, and Blaine felt himself getting hard already. “Sleep and stand, Sam…sleep and stand,” he told his friend, and within a few seconds Sam was able to stay upright, his head lolling forward and body swaying slightly.

“Next time you open your eyes,” he told Sam in a near-whisper, because he really didn’t want to hear his friends giving Sam this admittedly self-indulgent suggestions, “you’re not going to notice the fact that you’re shirtless. In fact, it won’t bother you at all and you won’t make any move to put your clothes back on.”

“‘Kay…” Sam murmured, his voice almost inaudible.

“Just doing some relaxation stuff,” he told the others, more loudly, so they hopefully wouldn’t suspect that Blaine was blatantly keeping Sam shirtless for his own enjoyment. Although, he was pretty sure all the other girls in the club were enjoying it, too.

“Okay, Sam,” he announced, stepping back and making his voice louder, “when I clap my hands, you’re going to wake up and you won’t have any memory you’ve been hypnotized—because you’re going to believe that _you_ are an incredible hypnotist and are capable of hypnotizing anybody. However, you won’t actually be able to. I’m going to put a pocket watch in your hand—” he turned around and gave Sugar a look, and the girl dashed off, returning a few seconds later with one (which didn’t surprise him, given how rich her father was). “—and you’re going to use it to try and hypnotize someone in this room.

“Hyp’tize…suh-wuh…” Sam repeated, his words low and slurred.

“But as you try and hypnotize someone,” Blaine continued, “you’re going to find yourself drawn to the watch, and will slowly start to hypnotize _yourself_ , until you fall back into a deep, deep sleep. You’re going to have no idea this is happening. Do you understand?” Sam nodded—or rather, jerked his head once. Blaine took the watch and wound the chain around Sam’s fingers a few times so that it stayed there, then took a few steps back and clapped his hands.

Sam blinked, righting himself and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked disoriented for a second or two, then, upon seeing the pocket watch in his hand, seemed to remember what he was here for. “Alright, who’s up first?” he said loudly, twisting the watch back and forth enticingly. “Ryder!” he said, pointing out the floppy-haired brunette who’d been sitting next to Jake and Marley (though pointedly on the other side of Jake, away from Marley). “You wanna see my skills in action?”

“You mean hypnotize me?” Ryder asked, narrowing his eyes bemusedly. Even though he knew Sam couldn’t actually do anything, he seemed to be putting on a pretty convincing ‘nervous skeptic’ act. “I dunno, Sam. I don’t think I really believe in that stuff.”

“C’mon!” Sam pressed. “It won’t hurt…” He sat down on an open ottoman, patting its corresponding armchair. His jeans, which he hadn’t buttoned back up, slid low across his hips, showing off the top few inches of his underwear. “In fact, I bet I can put you to sleep in sixty seconds or less!”

That piqued Ryder’s interest; he played along really well, standing up and crossing his arms curiously. “Fine,” he said with a good-natured laugh. Blaine, too, had a smile on his face, equally interested to see how this suggestion played out. “What do I get if I win?” he asked, sitting down in the chair. 

“Well, you won’t,” Sam said with a bump of his eyebrows. “Buuuuut, if for some reason you do stay awake, I’ll teach _you_ how to hypnotize someone as good as I do.”

Ryder chuckled once more, then sat back in the chair, his hands folded in his lap. “Alright, deal. Go for it.” 

Excitement palpable, Sam held the pocket watch up in front of Ryder’s eyes and began to swing it back and forth. “Just look at the watch,” he intoned, voice getting theatrically slow and monotonous, “and listen to my voice.” 

Ryder, of course, was already doing just that, his lips pulled into a thin line as, presumably, he tried to keep from laughing at Sam’s melodramatic delivery and oblivious half-nakedness. Brushing his hair out of his face, Sam, too, started to notice the path of the watch, and Blaine watched intently as he blinked a few times to refocus on his task of “hypnotizing” Ryder.

“You’re getting very sleepy,” Sam said, his gaze already tracking the watch once more. He shook his head, holding it more intently in Ryder’s vision, but his eyes went right back to the watch as soon as he’d readjusted himself. “Very, very sleepy…”

Ryder’s eyes were flicking back and forth as well, but he was, of course, still completely awake. Sam didn’t notice, however, and went on with his schpiel, his eyes growing more glazed and his voice sounding more faraway as he spoke.   
  
“Just breathe in…an’ breathe…out…” As Ryder did so, Sam sighed heavily as well, his posture slumping on the ottoman as he took his own suggestions. His arm started to sink a little lower. Blaine could see him blinking rapidly, his eyes opening a bit less every time they did so.

“Gettin’ sleepier…” Sam yawned, his head starting to sway in time with the swinging watch. “So tiiired…”

He didn’t say much more for a few moments after that—probably because he was getting too tired himself to come up with anything. His head had just started to nod off once when Ryder suddenly sat up, blinking a few times to readjust his vision. 

“Dude,” he said, “it’s been more than thirty seconds.”

Sam’s head jerked up and he forced his eyes open, his eyes bulging for a moment before they began to flutter closed again, slavishly following the watch. “Wha—?”

“I’m still awake,” Ryder said. “I win the bet.” 

Sam’s head rocked back and forth in what was apparently his attempt at shaking it. “No, nah,” he slurred, “gimme like, ten more seconds…” His hand was still keeping the watch swinging, now held directly in front of his own face—he didn’t even notice that Ryder wasn’t participating anymore. “Soooo sleepyyyy…” he sighed.

“You gotta keep your end of the bargain,” Ryder teased, leaning forward to try and grab Sam’s attention, but the blonde was fixated on the watch and the feelings of relaxation he’d induced in himself. He didn’t respond until Ryder reached out and grabbed the watch to stop it; Sam’s head fell to one side, his eyes crossed and barely open.

If he’d been alone, Blaine would have come right there. But he also wouldn’t have minded watching Sam hypnotize himself over and over. So he finally spoke up: “Sam, snap out of it,” he said from over by the couch.  

Maybe it was the fact that it was his voice, and part of Sam was still attuned to his orders, but his friend’s head floated back up to its proper position, his eyelids lifting as he tried to pull his heavy eyes back open. “Huh?”

“Ryder’s right,” Blaine said, trying to keep his voice even, and not ragged and thumping like the blood rushing nonstop down to his cock.

“Ryder…bout whah?” Clearly Sam was taking his time getting out of it, so Blaine came over and snapped his fingers in front of his face a few times, which caught Sam’s attention: his eyes regained focus, and he blinked the sleep away, shaking his head as if clearing away a fog. “What?” he repeated, clearly not remembering the events of the past few minutes.

“You lost the bet,” Ryder spoke up from Sam’s other side. “You didn’t hypnotize me.”

“Of course I did,” Sam scoffed. “He’s lying,” he told Blaine, jerking his thumb at the brunette. “He just doesn’t want to admit I could do it.”

“You didn’t,” Blaine replied evenly, sounding almost apologetic although he definitely wasn’t. “ _You_ were the one who fell asleep, actually.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Sam argued. “It’s worked every other time I’ve tried it! I said the exact same things, I did it the…the exact…uh…” 

As he spoke, Sam had raised the watch demonstratively and begun to swing it back and forth, and it had apparently caught his eye, drawing his attention back to its path. With a short laugh, Blaine reached out and lowered the watch. Luckily it hadn’t gotten Sam so deep yet, so he snapped out it his daze almost immediately after it left his vision.

“Uh, sorry, the exact same way,” he finished lamely, this time clearly aware of his momentary lapse in consciousness. He didn’t seem to have put it together yet, though.

“Try someone else?” Ryder offered with a shrug. “You _did_ say you would show me how to hypnotize someone if you lost.”

“Well, I will gladly demonstrate my skills again, if you want.” Sam’s voice had once again gotten a more theatrical, and he turned around to survey the room, many of whose occupants had gotten tired of the novelty of a hypnotized Sam and wandered off to do their own thing again. “Sir Jake Puckerman!” he called across the room. “To the hypnotist’s chair!” 

Jake’s eyebrow lifted. “…You’re joking.”

“C’mon, just do it,” Ryder pressed, shooting Jake a look from over Sam’s shoulder. Jake was proud, sure, but apparently even faking being hypnotized for a second was too much for him to deal with. He clearly wasn’t having any of it, but he walked over and sat grudgingly in the chair all the same, arms crossed as he blew through his lips, the picture of apathy.

Sam’s attempt on Jake went even worse than the last one, with Sam zonking himself out in less than half a minute, and Blaine took that as a sign that perhaps it was time for that suggestion to be wiped away.

…But he didn’t completely. Instead he just removed Sam’s belief that he was a hypnotist and took the watch—but didn’t remove Sam’s fixation on the watch itself. So hours later, when the club had all gone to bed, Blaine left the guest room he’d scored for himself (the Mottas’ house was that enormous) and quietly tiptoed down the hallway in his pajamas to the room where Sam was sleeping with Brittany. 

After pressing his ear to the door and hearing nothing, Blaine quietly eased the door open, and the light from the hallway cast a thin line of visibility across one side of the bed—luckily, it was the side where Sam was sleeping.

Seeing his best friend asleep naturally was just as hot as seeing him in hypnotized, and Blaine’s eyes swept up Sam’s frame slowly: his large foot poking out from under the blanket and hanging off the edge of the bed, part of a sculpted leg, those perfect abs. He was splayed rather unromantically next to Brittany, who slumbered on as well, tangled in the sheets.

Creeping forward, Blaine crouched down by the bed, the pocket watch in one hand. With the other he slowly pulled the blanket up Sam’s legs, revealing his foot completely. With a deep breath, Blaine ran his fingers up the bottom of Sam’s foot, relishing in how he instantly reacted, clenching his toes and wrinkling the sole. Blaine did it again, feeling his cock surge as Sam wiggled his toes and pulled his foot slightly away. He could hear a tiny hum from Sam, and Blaine quickly made his way around the bed, next to Sam, who was thankfully still slumbering on.

“Sam,” he whispered quietly, inches away from his friend’s face. He longed to bridge the gap, to kiss Sam and feel those gorgeous lips on his, but at the risk of becoming a Sleeping Beauty story gone _way_ wrong, he abstained, instead focusing on his task at hand. “Sam,” he said again, placing his hand on his friend’s bare shoulder. “I need you for something.”

Finally the blonde began to stir, making a tiny noise in the back of his throat as his face scrunched up from the hall light shining over his face. “Blaine?” he mumbled, his eyelids starting to flutter open, still squinting in the unexpected light. His voice was rough and heavy with sleep, still, but if anything that was going to make this easier.

“Sam, I need you to look at something for me.”

“Look at what?” Sam sounded thoroughly confused as he started to sit up on his elbows. “What time is…oh…” 

He’d spotted the watch swinging from Blaine’s hand, and he fell completely silent. 

“I need you to come with me, Sam,” Blaine said quietly, relishing the way Sam was so willing and ready to go into a trance already.

“B-but I—” the blonde stammered adorably, his already-tired eyelids sinking like weights.

“Nothing else matters, Sam,” Blaine pressed, leaning closer as if his presence might somehow increase the intensity of his suggestion. “Nothing else but following the watch and listening to my voice.”

“N-nothing else…matters…” Sam repeated sleepily. This close up, Blaine could see the sheen on Sam’s parted lips, the cloudiness in his eyes as they began to shut again, longing to return to sleep. Blaine reached out and stroked Sam’s cheek with his free hand, feeling himself getting harder as Sam’s eyelids fluttered wildly at the contact, letting out a quiet moan of comfort.

“It’s okay, Sam,” Blaine told him. “You can come with me now. You _want_ to keep looking at this watch, don’t you?”

“…Yeeeaaahhh…” Sam sighed blissfully, making no move to stop Blaine as his fingers started to drag across his lips. He didn’t do anything, but feeling the plump flesh under his fingers set Blaine’s desire aflame even more.

“Then just follow the watch, Sam…follow the watch, and follow me.” Blaine pulled his fingers down Sam’s chin, cupping it and pulling him forward. This urged Sam out of bed, and the blonde clumsily leaned forward at Blaine’s manipulation, swinging his legs stiffly around and slowly rising to his unsteady feet, swaying with the relaxation and desire now coursing through his body. “You can stay awake for now, Sam,” Blaine told him, and Sam nodded dumbly as his eyes lifted open a bit. “But as you follow me you feel your mind getting blanker and blanker, your desire to obey getting stronger and stronger.”

“Obey…” Sam echoed, sounding almost like a robot, and Blaine felt a satisfied smile growing on his face. He began to walk backwards out of the room, keeping the watch aloft so that Sam would go where it led. With his drunken-esque gate, he looked like a sleepwalker, moving on jerky legs. His face, however, showed nothing but desperate craving for the sight of the watch, following it mindlessly down the hall. 

“Stick your arms out in front of you,” Blaine said impulsively, and Sam obliged, his hands hanging slightly at the wrists while his arms went straight out in front of him. He was the stereotypical hypno-zombie now, and Blaine frankly found it incredibly hot.

Glancing down to watch Sam’s feet clumsily shuffle across the floor, he also happened to spot a definite sign that Sam found this hot as well; his boner was back, swelling in the confines of his boxers; within a few seconds it reached its full length, breaking through his undone fly and sticking straight out, at what Blaine had estimated to be a good eight or nine inches.

This, of course, was more than enough to make Blaine want to touch himself right there, but they were almost to his room, and he didn’t want another glee club member to accidentally see him leading a horny, brainwashed Sam around the hallway. It was a pretty perfect picture, however, and once they were in his room Blaine removed the watch from Sam’s vision, telling Sam to stay in trance but leaving him in the same pose.

He circled around Sam, taking stock of how he remained almost frozen, hands held out, eyes glazed and unseeing, cock (unexpectedly) hard. Cautiously, Blaine reached out and touched Sam’s shoulder, feeling the warm skin in the palm of his hand. He moved it around Sam’s neck, kneading the muscles and hearing Sam let out another grunt of approval. He eased Sam’s hands back down to his sides and said, “You’re going to remain completely comfortable right here, Sam—and anytime I touch you, you’re going to feel even more amazing, do you understand?”

Sam nodded slowly. “Yes, Blaine.”

Given this freedom, Blaine began to tentatively run his hands down Sam’s chest, feeling the firmness in his pecs as he cupped them excitedly. Sam didn’t flinch. Blaine’s fingers began to ghost across Sam’s abs next, feeling the grooves of the muscle cautiously, then hungrily, and Sam’s eyes fluttered a bit.

“Sam,” Blaine said as he began to explore Sam’s torso and arms with his hands, “how do you feel right now?” 

“Good,” Sam answered plainly, his diction sloppy. “Ruh…laaaaxed…” He yawned out the last word and smacked his lips. “Horny.”

There it was _again_. Blaine had to figure this out now, especially considering Sam’s dick was literally out in front of him and hadn’t gotten any less hard. “Do you know why you’re horny, Sam?” Blaine asked, almost afraid to know why.

It took Sam a moment for his trance-addled brain to realize the answer, apparently: “‘cause I’m hypn’tized.”

Blaine stopped, slowly pulling his hands off Sam’s abs and eying him curiously. The blonde was still standing compliantly in the middle of the room, his glazed eyes absently staring off into nothingness, probably totally unaware of what he’d just said. “Sam,” Blaine asked, “does being hypnotized turn you on?”

“I…I dunno,” Sam replied with lazy shrug, his shoulders too relaxed to fully lift. “I…like it…” It sounded like he wanted _Blaine_ to tell him whether or not this was true, but Blaine wasn’t sure if he was ready to give Sam that kind of suggestion yet. At the same time, he wasn’t sure it would be even necessary—this was the second time Blaine had seen Sam get a boner while in trance, so that had to be the common thread.

“…Would you like me to help you with your…uh… _horniness_ , Sam?”

Sam nodded, his cock growing thicker at the prospect. “Yeah…” he breathed out, a drop of precum starting to from at his tip. “Please, Blaine…” His hand twitched, and then began to wrap around his shaft, but Blaine stopped him.

“Don’t touch yourself until I say,” he interrupted.

Sam dutifully lowered his hand. “Sorry…” he murmured. His mouth was hanging open and his breathing already sounded more ragged.

“Okay…sit down on the bed, Sam,” Blaine said, and Sam did so. “Lie all the way back,” he added, helping the blonde scoot back onto the blankets. As he did so, his boxers started to ride down, cutting lower across his waist—his cock was still sticking out, flushed and free in the air.  

Blaine reached for the waistband of Sam’s underwear, but paused before he touched it. “If you want me to take off your underwear,” he said, “just tell me.” It was a weird form of consent, sure, but it would certainly help him sleep better that night.

“Take ‘em off,” Sam whined, lifting his hips in desperation. “Please…" 

Once was fully naked and lying on the bed, Blaine stripped as well, freeing his own cock as he drank in the sight of a hypnotized Sam splayed across the sheets, his dull eyes dilated with pleasure and his chest rapidly rising and falling in time with the bobbing of his cock.

“Sam,” he began, standing at the foot of the bed, “your feet are very sensitive, aren’t they?”

“Mmmmm, yeah,” Sam said, his mind in dreamland.

“Well now, your feet are getting even _more_ sensitive—so much so, that they’re connected to your cock, and everything that I do to your them makes you even harder than you are now. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Blaine,” Sam answered, and as an experiment, Blaine reached out a hand and slowly began to run the tips of his fingers up and down Sam’s sole. Sam gasped as he foot flexed in shock, the sound turning into a moan as Blaine did it again—and this time, he saw Sam’s cock begin to lift higher. Blaine started to scratch more insistently, and Sam started to giggle, intercut with groans of pleasure as he got harder.

Blaine didn’t tickle Sam for long, though; it was late and he didn’t want people waking up. Instead, he began to massage Sam’s feet, listening to Sam’s moans grow more elongated and needy. The blonde bucked his hips up into the air, his hands fisting the sheets desperately.

“You’re not going to be able to come until I say so, okay?” Blaine said, not really asking the question. Sam whimpered out an agreement, coming out less like words and more like a pleading noise. “And as you get harder, you fall deeper and deeper into trance, and when you come, you’re going to become completely mindless and brainless and ready to obey. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Blaine,” Sam grunted, rolling his hips up towards nothing. Blaine was being a bit…aggressive at this point, sure, but his mind was definitely _not_ being led by logic right now.

Which is probably why he had no problem sticking his tongue out and running it along Sam’s arch. Sam let out the loudest moan yet, his foot flexing even harder, which only helped to smooth it out and make it easier for Blaine’s tongue to run along it. 

He’d only done this to one other guy before: a boy at Dalton, and it had only happened once, but this was still worlds better. Sam’s feet were clean, but still calloused enough thanks to the sports he played, and their natural scent was just a little stronger than usual since he’d been going without socks for so long. Blaine lapped at the ball of Sam’s foot, feeling Sam’s toes twitch with ecstasy, brushing the tip of his nose and filling it with even more of the glorious musk.

Sam let out a long, shuddering moan that turned into helpless giggles as Blaine’s tongue began coat the entirety of his size fourteens in saliva. Blaine broke off after a moment once his tongue was beginning to feel dry, looking up and seeing that precum was running down Sam’s shaft, which was swollen and red beyond belief. Blaine longed to have _that_ in his mouth, too…but it could wait. At least Sam’s feet weren’t _normally_ sexual zones for him, so this felt a little more one-sided in Blaine’s favor—even though the suggestion he’d given Sam had turned his best friend into a writhing, horny mass on the bed.  

Blaine took Sam’s feet and placed them together again, sliding his own aching cock in between the arches; thanks to the saliva coating them, it moved much more easily, and Blaine watched as he and Sam began to pant and jerk their hips in synch, Sam being equally turned on thanks to the trance he was in.

“Come now, Sam,” Blaine gasped out, snapping his fingers as he came too. His seed shot out like a geyser, landing on Sam’s abs, which were also being coated by Sam’s own semen, which spurted out of him for what seemed like forever, until Blaine fell back on his knees and Sam laid uselessly on the bed, entire body limp, mouth and eyes wide open, seeing nothing.

“Sam…” Blaine panted, “can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” Sam responded, his voice flat and emotionless. He’d really taken the mindless suggestion to an over-the-top place, but Blaine wasn’t complaining.

“In a moment, Sam, I’m going to snap my fingers, and when I do, you’re going to stand up and walk back down the hall to your room, still deeply in trance. You’re going to get back in bed with Brittany, and when you do, you’re going to fall into a deep, wonderful, _natural_ sleep. And as you sleep, everything that just happened while you were in trance is going to fade away into nothing but a blur of darkness and pleasant sensations. Do you understand?” As he spoke, Blaine pulled some tissues from the bedside table and wiped up the worst of his Sam’s come off Sam’s chest (and it wasn’t easy—there was a _lot_ of it).

“I understand,” was the robotic reply.

Blaine picked up Sam’s boxers from the floor and slid them up Sam’s legs. He snapped his fingers and Sam slowly sat up, getting up off the bed and marching unsteadily towards the door, his feet dragging languidly on the carpet. Although Blaine had made sure to pull Sam’s boxers up enough to cover his dick, apparently he hadn’t been so successful with the back, as a good half of Sam’s ass was visible as the blonde shuffled out of the room and down the hallway.

Once Sam was back in his room, Blaine quickly shut the door and crawled into his own bed, shutting his eyes in a desperate attempt to fall asleep before his post-orgasm glow wore off and he started to wonder whether or not Sam would actually remember what happened in the morning.

But, he thought as he quickly drifted off, if all his other suggestions had worked so well, this one should take hold just as effectively…

_ Right? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It was a monster to write, but now we're really starting to get to all the good stuff, and the plot is definitely going to thicken as we go along!
> 
> Feel free to keep suggesting glee club guys that you'd like to see Blaine hypnotize (although I'm starting to formulate a pretty good idea of who I want it to be), ways you'd like to see any of them BE hypnotized, suggestions you'd like to Blaine to give to them and/or Sam, etc. With a story like this, I feel like the possibilities are endless and there are so many things that could happen, I wanna slip in some stuff that YOU GUYS want to see...y'know, just so this doesn't become 18,000 words of me indulging my favorite kinks. lol
> 
> ALSO! I'm potentially looking for someone to maybe bounce story ideas off of and read this as I work on it—sort of like a beta reader but nothing official. I have no idea how that system really works, but let me know if you'd be interested in something that and we can figure out a way to get in touch!
> 
> Thanks again for reading, y'all, and be sure to comment/subscribe/kudos! I had no idea so many people would want to read this and I really do appreciate it :)


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